Third Date
by skimmy77
Summary: Oliver and Felicity spend the day together for their third date. Third story in Dating Series. Rated M for adult themes right off the bat.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Woops! Sorry about that! I posted the wrong document at first, and some of you may have seen chapter 6 of Second Date, and you were probably like wtf? This website sometimes sucks. All fixed now.**

**There is a link to Felicity's outfit on Tumblr: tumblr dot com/post/105602756942/felicitys-third-date-outfit-hair**

Felicity had been awake for a while, basking in the light that streamed through her window. She woke with a sense of excitement that she couldn't contain, knowing that today was the day she would get to _finally_ have sex with Oliver. She probably could have crossed that line with him last night, but a very small part of her was glad that they had been interrupted, if only to preserve her (probably arbitrary) rule about waiting. The more she thought about it, though, the more she realized that the rule didn't apply to them, not really; not when there had been a palpable tension between them since the beginning. And she knew that no matter when it happened, it would never be considered a "sudden" thing. _And_ she was sure beyond all doubt that she wasn't a fling to him. He wasn't the man he used to be, and besides, they had exchanged declarations last night.

She turned to bury her head in her pillow, giving herself a moment to squeal with joy. Oliver loved her. It was a fact. She wished she could go back to a younger version of herself and tell her that dreams do come true. Not a shallow dream of getting the hot guy (although, she couldn't lie to herself, dating a guy as hot as Oliver did feed her ego a bit), but that she would find a love that felt as true and epic as this. She thought she had known what love was; she thought she had felt it with Cooper. But what she felt for Oliver was completely different. It felt more permanent.

She shook her head from her thoughts, getting way ahead of herself. She was determined just to enjoy whatever they were right now, and what they had was pretty darn good.

She distantly heard a jingle of keys right before the sound of the apartment door opening and closing. She glanced at her alarm clock, noticing it was a few minutes past eight. She shook her head, smiling. Looks like she wasn't the only one anxious to start their day.

She immediately feigned sleep, wanting to see what he would do. She heard her bedroom door opening, and to his credit, she didn't hear any other sounds from him. She was tempted to peek, wondering if he had moved at all, or if he was just standing in the doorway. She smelled the heavenly fragrance of coffee and pastries, but she kept her eyes closed, waiting for his next move.

She felt more than heard him moving toward her, and the only sounds were coming from the paper bag he carried. She heard him place everything on her bedside table before the bed dipped beside her. She could hear his quiet breaths, and the familiar smell of his brown leather jacket filled her senses. A finger lightly stroked her temple, clearing away the hair from her face. The finger traveled down her cheek, turning into a hand on her jaw. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, and she felt him leaning close to plant a kiss on her lips. She fought to keep her face neutral, hoping he didn't catch the tiny smile that made the corners of her lips twitch.

He slowly peeled the comforter back, stroking her arm in the process. She couldn't stop the shiver that wracked her body, and she could almost _hear_ his smirk. Her tank top suddenly felt rough on her nipples, which meant that the girls had woken up and Oliver had a front and center view. She heard his breathing pick up, and his hand wandered to stroke the side of her breast, moving toward the peak. He brushed his fingers across her nipple, hardening it further, and a jolt of arousal traveled down through her navel. She _just_ managed to hold back a gasp.

His hand continued its exploration, moving to her other breast. His finger circled her nipple before pinching it lightly, and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

Still, she kept her eyes closed.

He pulled the comforter back further, bringing it down to her waist, and she felt him changing his position on the bed. He straddled her legs and pushed her tank up her sides, his warm, rough hands sparking sensation all over her skin. He pushed her tank all the way up to reveal her breasts, and then plunged his mouth over one nipple, circling it with his tongue, tugging on it gently with his teeth. She couldn't hold back a moan this time, and she clutched the sheet beneath her hands, gripping it with all her might while he relentlessly stirred up her arousal.

He kissed a path down her chest, down her belly, and he pulled back the comforter completely. He made quick work of stripping her from the waist down before pushing her legs apart and settling himself between them.

Her eyes popped open at the feeling of his tongue on her, and she gasped out loud. "Oliver!"

The way he was looking at her caused a stirring deep inside. His eyes were dark with desire and he had a mischievous grin on his face. "Are you done pretending to be asleep?"

She giggled. "You caught me."

He smiled brightly before lowering his mouth onto her again. She squirmed under his attention, surprised when she felt an orgasm already building. The moment he started using his fingers was the moment she finally tipped over the edge, panting and moaning as she convulsed around him. He continued kissing and stroking her as she came down from her climax, slowing down and then stopping as she melted into the mattress, feeling boneless and sated.

He crawled up her body and kissed her thoroughly before placing himself beside her, gently caressing her waist. "Good morning," he murmured, laughing at her with his eyes.

"It certainly is," she replied with a smile. "I could get used to waking up this way."

His smile brightened even more at the idea. "I could easily make that happen."

She chuckled. Her hand wandered down to his groin, feeling the effects of their playtime on his body. "My turn?"

His breath left him in a huff as he laughed. "Not yet. I have plans, Miss Smoak."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Plans, huh? Do tell."

He shook his head. "I'm going to show you, instead. Question is, do you want to eat now, or get ready first?"

She took a deep breath, smelling the coffee that was on the nightstand beside her. "Coffee first. Coffee is always first."

"Okay," he nodded. He reached over her to grab their drinks. She sat up and pulled the comforter around her waist before taking her drink from his hand.

"Mmm, thank you." She popped open the spout before taking a moment to enjoy the aroma. She took her first sip and held it in her mouth briefly before swallowing it down with a sigh. "Coffee," she murmured rapturously, closing her eyes against the warm, blissful feeling in her belly.

"Your little raspberry croissants are over there," he said, gesturing to the paper bag.

"Rugelach," she corrected him absent-mindedly, still sipping on her coffee. It was a conversation they'd had too many times, and she was certain he did it just to tease her.

"That's what I said," he responded, tossing a cheeky smile her way.

She simply quirked an eyebrow at him. "Well, the _rugelach_ can wait, I don't want crumbs in my bed." She started to get up, when she remembered she was naked from the waist down. A light blush filled her cheeks. She wanted to take a shower, but she felt funny walking around half naked in front of Oliver. She turned to him. "Um, can you take the pastries to the living room and wait for me while I get ready?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? You're shy after what I just did to you?"

Her blush deepened. "It's still new!"

He grinned, and brought her face closer to his for a kiss. "Okay. I'll see you outside." He got up from the bed, grabbing the paper bag before walking out of her bedroom, tossing a lingering gaze over his shoulder.

She took a moment to hug her knees, enjoying the last remnants of her afterglow. The things that man just did with his tongue—she considered herself a lucky woman. And she knew she hadn't seen the extent of his skills yet.

She jumped out of bed, putting on her pajama bottoms for the short walk to the bathroom. Her eyes met with Oliver's on her way there, who had turned away from the TV to look at her. He glanced down at her pants with a heated smile, and then looked back at her face with a smirk. She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, and he laughed out loud.

God, she loved the sound of his laughter.

She took a little bit longer than usual getting ready, but that was because she shaved and plucked and exfoliated within an inch of her life. Not that she didn't take care of herself on a regular basis, but she had extra motivation to primp today.

When she was done, she darted out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and ducked into the bedroom as quickly as she could. She opened her dresser drawer to pull out underwear when she realized a snag in her plan. What she wore underneath would depend on what she wore on the outside, but she wasn't sure how to dress for today.

Making sure the towel was secure, she opened the door a crack and called for Oliver. He came to her door with an inquisitive expression. She didn't miss the way his eyes darted down to the hand that held her towel in place, or the little smile that followed.

She decided to let it pass without comment, a more pressing matter occupying her thoughts. "How exactly should I be dressing today?"

A smile lit up his face as he thought about the question. "Think outdoors. Dress warm."

She pursed her lips in thought. "Outdoors like hiking? Or outdoors like city strolling?"

"Somewhere in between."

She sighed. "That doesn't really clarify anything."

He chuckled. "Let's put it this way: we will be surrounded by nature but it's still in the middle of civilization."

"So, like a park."

He shrugged. "Sort of."

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips quirking up in a lopsided smile. "You know I don't like mysteries."

"Felicity," he said, shaking his head as he laughed. "It's called a surprise. You'll like it, I promise."

She stared at him with mock suspicion before relenting. "Okay, fine. I think I have enough information for my outfit."

"Okay," he answered with laughter in his voice.

She closed the door gently and proceeded to put an outfit together. Outdoors and a slightly chilly day meant no skirts, unless…she did just recently buy a really nice pair of suede over the knee boots, which should keep her legs pretty warm. With that in mind, she decided on a gray cashmere sweater and a textured royal blue skater skirt. She put on nude pantyhose for a little more insulation against the brisk weather, and packed a pale pink cardigan in her purse, just in case. She dug the new boots out of her closet and sat on the bed to put them on.

Once dressed, she flitted to the bathroom to take care of hair and makeup. She decided to leave her hair curly today, not wanting to keep Oliver waiting too much longer. She styled it with mousse, scrunching her hair with her hands to bring out the curls. She moved onto makeup, and decided to keep it simple today. She popped in her contacts and then emerged from the bathroom, ready to go.

Oliver did a little double take when he looked at her. A smile crept onto his face. "I like your hair."

She smiled back at him. "Thanks. I didn't feel like blowing it out today."

He muted the television and came around the couch to stand in front of her. He trailed a finger through her hair, lifting the ends before letting it fall back down. "You should leave it curly more often."

She ducked her head and blushed. "Maybe for casual days. I have a professional image to keep up, you know."

He took a deep breath, and his gaze turned tender. "I like it that way, too."

Her heart warmed at his affectionate tone, and she got lost in his gaze, letting it penetrate her soul. She grabbed onto the edges of his jacket and pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss.

Her stomach chose that second to complain loudly, and both of them broke away from the kiss, dissolving into laughter.

"Sorry," she laughed.

He pulled her toward the couch. "Let's get you fed."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Merry Christmas! Huge shout out to Liv (sweetoctopodes on tumblr) for beta'ing this chapter for me at one-friggin'-am on christmas freakin morning! You are a doll! So happy to meet another night owl. ;) Not tooo smutty, more fluffy than anything. Enjoy!**

Watching Felicity eat raspberry rugelach was a secret fetish of his, something he never admitted to anyone, although Diggle might have suspected at one point. It was the reason he kept buying them for her. She always paid all of her attention on each pastry as she pulled it apart layer by layer, licking the jelly off if one particular piece had too much. She inevitably dropped some crumbs, but her clothes were always protected by a perfectly placed napkin on her lap. Or her belly, in this instance, as she slouched halfway down the couch with her feet on the coffee table, paying attention to each pastry with incredible focus. After she finished each piece, she licked each finger that came into contact with it, wiped her fingers on the napkin, and then reached into the bag for another. She chased every other pastry with a sip of coffee. He used to watch this ritual surreptitiously when they had a glass wall and several yards separating them.

The first time he caught her eating rugelach, he was instantly mesmerized. But he only took little peeks at her, not wanting to get caught looking. After a while, he realized that she almost never paid attention to anything outside of her happy little bubble, and he became bolder about watching her. He would have a report in front of him with pen in hand, ready to look down if she did happen to look up. But she never did.

Now he had front row seats to the view. He could see her tongue more clearly as it peeked out to lick jelly off her fingers. He noticed with more clarity the fullness of her lips as each finger entered her mouth and came back out with a little pop.

She reached into the bag, pulling out the last piece. "Last chance, Oliver," she teased, waving it in front of him. "You sure you don't want any of this sweet fruity goodness?"

He let out a huff of laughter and shook his head. "I'm good. It's all yours."

"Okay," she intoned with a shrug, and went about savoring the last piece.

Oliver was overcome with a compulsion to taste her fingers before she licked them, and he pounced on her hand with his mouth. She squeaked in surprise, and then giggled as he took her other hand and brought it to his mouth. When he was done with her fingers, he devoured her lips, tasting the remnants of raspberry on her tongue. He sat back with a sigh, licking his lips with contentment. "You're right, that is good."

She was looking at him with amusement, her cheeks slightly pink from his attentions. A mischievous glint came into her eyes, and without breaking eye contact, she brought each finger that he had just tasted into her mouth, completing her ritual. He inhaled sharply, his eyes widening with lust at the suggestiveness of the action.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Were you even watching that at all?" she asked, pointing her thumb at the TV, which had been droning with the morning news.

Oliver blinked his eyes once, putting on an innocent expression. "Hmm?"

Felicity pitched her head forward as she snorted. "You're such a bad liar."

He shrugged. "I was multitasking."

"Mm-hmm." She sipped on her coffee. "So what's next?"

"Still have that blanket from last night?"

She nodded.

"Bring it."

He could tell she was speculating, her eyes twinkling as she smiled. "A picnic in the park?"

He shook his head. "Stop trying to guess. Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and standing up. "Let's hit the road."

xoxoxoxo

They spent the one hour drive chatting about nothing and everything, developing a rhythm of playful conversations and comfortable silences. For the first few minutes, she sprinkled in a guess or two about their destination, to which Oliver said nothing and just smiled. She eventually gave up and simply focused on enjoying their drive. She played DJ as she connected her phone to the car speakers, emitting her choice of music, which was mostly of the top 40 variety.

"Oh, Sam Smith," she crooned, as a beautiful piano based song came on. "His music is just amazing. This is an acoustic version of 'Latch.' Listen to the lyrics, they're so good." She turned up the volume for him, and he made sure to pay attention.

_You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down  
>You, you enchant me even when you're not around<br>If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down  
>I'm latching on, babe, now I know what I have found<em>

The lyrics stirred something in his heart as he listened, and he quietly let the words express his feelings for Felicity. He reached over to hold her hand, squeezing it once to let her know he was hearing and feeling the song with her.

_I'm so encaptured, got me wrapped up in your touch  
>Feel so enamored, hold me tight within your clutch<br>How do you do it, you got me losing every breath  
>What did you give me to make my heart beat out my chest<em>

He pulled her hand to his heart, holding it over the gentle ache he felt in his chest. She giggled at his actions, pleased that the song was moving him. When the song drew to a close, he took his eyes off the road briefly to look into her eyes. "Thank you," he murmured hoarsely. "That was beautiful." With one final squeeze, he put her hand back down between them, not yet letting go, and turned his eyes back to the road.

They pulled off the highway and continued on local roads. They started passing signs pointing toward a place called Fresh Farms Orchard, and Felicity perked up in her seat.

"Apple picking?!" she squealed with joy.

Oliver pressed his lips together and laughed at her exuberance. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Tell me we're going apple picking!" she demanded.

"We're going apple picking," he complied with a smile.

She let go of his hand to clap enthusiastically, bouncing a little in her seat. "I haven't gone apple picking in _years!_ Not since I was at MIT! Oh!" She grabbed onto his arm and heaved a loud sigh of contentment. "You're right, I like this surprise."

The ache in his heart grew larger as he fell more deeply in love with her. He didn't even know that was possible. "I'm glad," he replied, sneaking little glances at her as he drove. She was like a little kid sometimes, easy to please and filled with innocence, untouched by the darkness that surrounded their lives. As long as he had her in his life, she would keep him young and optimistic.

They pulled into the orchard and parked amongst hundreds of other cars. It was the height of apple picking season, so it only made sense that so many people were here. He grabbed the blanket from the back seat before taking her hand and walking toward the main buildings.

"There's one stop we're making first," he informed her as they neared one of the side buildings.

"Oh?"

He opened the door for her and whispered as she walked past him, "They have a winery here."

She stopped halfway through the doorway and stared at him. "Wine tasting?"

He nodded, and laughed when she clapped again.

"This day just keeps getting better!" she cried, and continued into the building.

He trailed behind her as she browsed the shelves of various wine accessories and glasses, and he told her to pick any pair to bring with them on their picnic. She looked at him with surprise, a tentative question in her eyes, and he nodded in confirmation. She moved in swiftly for a kiss, and went about browsing the glasses with purpose.

Once she made her choice, they approached the U-shaped bar area and sat on the far end, tucked into the corner. They spent the next half hour tasting various wines produced from the surrounding vineyards, laughing quietly with each other as the wine got to their heads. He told her to pick one for the picnic, and she settled on a Cabernet Sauvignon.

"Can't help myself," she explained with a grin. "I'm a sucker for a good Cab Sav."

"I remember," he remarked with a smile.

After the winery, he brought her to the orchard's market to pick up a few more supplies. As they began strolling the aisles, hand in hand, people began recognizing him and causing a low-level stir.

Oliver cleared his throat and whispered to Felicity, "Sorry, we'll just get what we need and get out of here."

She laughed. "I'm okay. This happens to you a lot, I guess."

"Not so much in Starling anymore, everyone's used to me there. Or they're more quiet about it, unless I'm in the middle of a public scandal. Out here, I'm kind of a novelty, I guess."

She giggled at his apparent discomfort. "Oh, you lead such a hard life."

He grinned down at her, laughing at the way she poked fun at him. The irony was that he _did_ lead a difficult life, but bantering about something so normal was a refreshing change of pace.

The owner came out to meet him in response to the stir, and Oliver's face paled. "Mr. Miller!" he called as a face from his past came back to taunt him. He could feel Felicity's curious eyes on him.

"Oliver Queen," the older gentleman rasped, looking at him with one eye squinting. Then he brightened up with laughter and pulled Oliver into a hug.

Oliver looked over the owner's shoulder at Felicity, who was looking on with delight. Her look of blazing curiosity was not lost on him.

"Mr. Miller," he repeated as he was finally released from the hug. "You still running things here?"

"Forty-five years, since my father before me, and his father before him," Miller pronounced with pride. He looked over at Felicity. "And who might you be, young lady?"

"Felicity Smoak," she answered with a smile, shaking his hand. "So nice to meet you, Mr. Miller."

"Such a proper little thing," he commented as he beamed at her. "There's no need for such formalities with me, you can call me Abe."

"Thank you, Abe. You can call me Felicity."

"Can I call you Abe?" Oliver joked, already knowing the answer.

He turned a withering glare at Oliver. "You'll call me Mr. Miller," he growled playfully before dropping a wink at him. He turned back to Felicity. "Did he ever tell you about the great orchard debacle of '98?"

Felicity shook her head with a curious grin, and Oliver stepped forward to put his hand on Miller's shoulder. "There's no need for rehashing old memories right now," he interrupted as quickly as he could. "Mr. Miller, I wonder if you could point us in the right direction." He pulled out the bottle of wine from their bag. "Could you help us find some cheese to pair with this wine?"

Miller squinted at Oliver suspiciously, knowing he was changing the subject, and leaned to whisper conspiratorially with Felicity. "Make sure he tells you that story, and then come find me to hear my side of it."

"Okay," Felicity replied with a giggle.

Miller took the wine from Oliver's hand and put on the glasses that were perched on his head. "Cab Sav, good choice by the way," he said to Felicity, and she laughed, "you could always go with cheddar, that's the easy choice, or you could try a camembert, that's what I would choose. And if you're planning on pairing this with apples, I'd look for the red delicious grove. It's the last one on the right side of the orchard, I believe." He handed the bottle back to Oliver.

"Thanks, Mr. Miller. We'll do that."

"It was a pleasure meeting you Felicity," he said, shaking her hand once more. He turned to Oliver. "And you!" he said in a stern tone, pointing a finger at his chest. "Behave yourself, you hear?"

He laughed, and then nodded. "I will."

"Good." He winked at Felicity before walking away.

"Well that was fun!" Felicity chirped, hooking her elbow with Oliver's. "What's this story he's talking about?"

Oliver shook his head, grinning. "I'll tell you later. Let's go get our cheese."

They got the rest of their supplies and then lined up for the tractor that would take them to the end of the orchard. They ignored the surreptitious looks that they were getting, simply lost in each other's presence. Once they arrived, Oliver hopped off, and turned to help Felicity, but she hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

She looked at her shoes. "My heels are a little pointier than is healthy for this grass. I'm afraid of making holes everywhere."

He shook his head in wonder at this woman, who was more concerned about the health of the grass than the state of her shoes, which were no doubt a designer brand.

"I have an idea," he offered, and gave her the bag and blanket to hold on to. "Do you think you can carry those? It's not too heavy, right?"

"Yeah," she assured. "Why?"

He turned around and stood with his back to her. "Hop on." He turned his head to look at her, and she had a shocked expression on her face.

"What?"

"Come on," he urged. "Hop on!"

With a little head shake, she wrapped her arms around his neck and followed it up by wrapping her legs around his torso. Oliver gripped her under her thighs, and turned his head toward hers.

"Felicity," he murmured.

"Yeah?"

He smirked at her, his dimple coming out in full force. "Hold onto me tight."


End file.
